


The Tinker's Companion

by Teccams_Socks



Category: Kingkiller Chronicles - Patrick Rothfuss
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Headcanon, Shenanigans, Swearing, Tinkers, fae, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 01:54:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14802129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teccams_Socks/pseuds/Teccams_Socks
Summary: The arrangement was simple. Enet would travel with her tinker for one Mortal year. She would learn about the Mortal world, have adventures, be out of her mother’s house, and have the protection of her tinker. It sounded great.But during that whole time, she would be a mule. A fuckingmule.Carrying the tinker’s wares with her glamour. After all, nobody looked too hard at a tinker’s companions.





	The Tinker's Companion

**Author's Note:**

> I thought of this idea while writing [this post](https://teccams-socks.tumblr.com/post/174240942249/most-fae-are-sly-and-subtle-folk-who-step-as-soft) on tumblr.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

No one talked about how the tradition started. It was one of those bullshit things that had probably seemed like a good idea once, when Fae was new and empty. Now, well….

Enet took the last reasonable bite of her apple and chucked it out the window. Maybe it would attract a dennerling that would drag her away so she didn’t have to do this. She glowered and threw herself on her bed, wriggling around until her head dangled off the side. She glared at the door, willing it to turn to stone and lock the world away.

Instead it opened. Her mother walked inside, upside down and angry.

“Enet, if you don’t pack up, you’ll have to go with nothing.”

“I don’t care,” she grumbled. “Won’t matter.”

Her mother’s hair floated up off her shoulders. She had the same solid build as Enet, her face severe even when she was happy. When she was angry, you _knew_. She didn’t try to contain the glamour that sent her hair sticking out like tree branches. Enet rolled over and slouched off the bed.

“I was having a snack, Mother.”

“Make sure you remember your lessons. You will not be the one to ruin this.”

To keep herself from yelling back, Enet threw her comb into her _saddlebag_. Anpauen, this was humiliating.

“Let me see your glamour.”

“ _Mother._ ”

Her hair grouped together like a dozen woven horns, fuzzy and crackling. Enet focused, closing her eyes and fixing her mind on her glamour.

Four hooves seemed to hit the ground around her. Mother nodded.

“Very good. When you return—”

Enet dropped the glamour and frowned. “I could just keep practicing here.”

“You’re going.” Mother stepped forward and put her hands on Enet’s shoulders. They were the same height now. “You will be more powerful than you ever thought. Just see it through, and you’ll succeed.”

Enet lowered her eyes. “Yes, Mother.”

\-------

The opportunity was perfect, after all. Tinkers were respected throughout Mortal, able to travel without restraint or fear. In fact, the mortals feared _them_. They had built their reputation for centuries, and now everyone benefitted from it. Mortals got news and wares. Tinkers got freedom and safety. Fae got power and passage.

The arrangement was simple. Enet would travel with her tinker for one Mortal year. Time worked differently there. For one year, she would maintain her glamour until she could wear it as easily as a second skin. Her skill would increase, as would her stamina and focus. She would learn about the Mortal world, have adventures, be out of her mother’s house, and have the protection of her tinker. It sounded great.

But during that whole time, she would be a mule. A fucking _mule._ Carrying the tinker’s wares with her glamour. After all, nobody looked too hard at a tinker’s companions.

Mother said it was a good opportunity. Enet was looking forward to glamouring a steaming mule-shit on the tinker’s pillow.

When she met him, he seemed nice enough. He pledged to look after her safety and teach her his trade. Mother knew him from long ago, and he was one of those people who had probably been alive when this tradition started. He was crazy enough to be that old.

“I’ve had many companions before you,” the tinker said as they walked toward the door to Mortal. “But each of them stands out clearly in my memory. I know you’ll do the same.”

Enet felt the air change as they stepped into Mortal. Standing on the other side of the door was a mule. Enet narrowed her eyes. His glamour was excellent. She couldn’t see even a hint of the person underneath. Maybe he had accidentally turned himself into a mule, instead of just seeming to be one.

“Who’s this?” Enet asked.

“Hm?” replied the tinker. “Oh, that’s Lala. He’s just a mule.” He peered at her with some concern.

She scowled.

\-------

Yesterday, Enet had marched with affronted dignity, all but dragging the tinker along. But today her feet hurt too much for pride.

The tinker had saddled her up with about a third of his wares. She had to hold her glamour solidly enough to support the packs, or they would fall on top of her. She stayed quiet most of the day, keeping her focus. By noon, she had a headache right behind her eyes.

The tinker chattered to her. He seemed to like having a companion who could do more than bray in response. Enet kept her mouth shut.

The third day was worse. Her feet hurt before they even started and Enet couldn’t stop the endless chant of _I hate this, I hate you, I hate you,_ running through her head _._ She was so distracted that when Lala rubbed his muzzle affectionately against her shoulder, she lost the glamour.

Three stone of worthless mortal shit crashed on top of her head. Enet hit the forest floor with a _thump_ that jounced through her aching body. She heard the tinker ask something, but she just lay there, wishing the moon would crash to earth right on top of her. Lala brayed, and it sounded like he was laughing.

Enet pushed herself off the ground and shoved the packs away from her. One of them opened and spilled out glass marbles and a pair of candles. She staggered upright and shouted, “Fuck this!” She smacked Lala’s hind end, but instead of bolting in shock, he kicked her stomach.

Enet sat hard on the leafy ground, too surprised to feel the pain.

The tinker chuckled. “Lala’s used to stuff like that. He’s seen a score of Fae children.”

“I’m not a child.”

The tinker started to unload Lala’s gear, laying it in a neat pile at the base of a tall oak tree. Enet watched without moving or caring.

“I won’t make you stay,” the tinker said. “You know you can leave whenever you want.”

Enet felt her hair rising above her shoulders, like Mother’s. “Don’t fucking patronize me.”

The tinker held up his hands, but didn’t say anything. They made camp there. Enet watched the fire and wondered if this forest was dry enough to blaze.

The next day, Enet refused to take the packs. “You can’t force me,” she snapped when the tinker tried to persuade her. “Make the ass do it. He doesn’t care.”

“You need to carry your burden, Enet.”

“I don’t see you carrying anything.”

“You’re sore, and tired, and probably homesick,” he said kindly. “I’m going over that rise into Trebon today. You can stay here if you want, or you can come and see your first mortal town.”

Enet snorted. “I don’t want to see some mortal shithole.” She gestured at the absent trees around them. “This is bad enough.” She slumped against an ash and crossed her arms.

The tinker sighed and began to pile his packs onto Lala’s back. “Make sure you maintain your glamour, Enet. The folk in this town are very superstitious, and they might panic if they see you.”

Enet laughed.

“They might hurt you.”

“Let them.”

The tinker seemed to realize he wasn’t going to say anything right. He finished packing the mule in silence and left Enet alone. She climbed a tree and napped for most of the day.

On the second day of their stay near Trebon, boredom convinced Enet to join the tinker when he went out. Having had time to rest, her body and mind felt better prepared for holding the glamour. She resented her burden, but there was… _opportunity_ with these mortals. She stepped on a panner’s tray, spilling the contents across the rock and making him curse so vigorously even she learned something. She snuck away and startled a plow horse so badly he bolted across the field, tearing it up while the farmer chased frantically after him. These were fun, but the best part was watching the tinker scramble to make excuses for his mule’s behavior.

Sadly, the fun of tormenting townsfolk wore off, and Enet found she was done with Trebon. Finally, _finally_ , the tinker was ready to move on. He made arrangements for passage on a boat down by some docks, and they set off down the winding road.

Enet carried her packs with resignation, hating this situation all over again. She wondered if she could glamour herself an injury and get out of this shit.

They approached a fork in the road and Enet stumbled. She kept her packs, but tripped almost down to her mule-knees. Pulled from his plodding thoughts, the tinker rounded on her, surprised and concerned.

“Enet?”

She swore, rolling her ankle. Her long mule ears flattened back against her neck. Lala nuzzled her comfortingly. “That fucking hurt.”

The tinker kicked a large stone out of the road. “Don’t pull this shit, Enet. We need to catch this boat.”

“I fucking hurt myself!”

“I know all the tricks. You need to get over this if you want to keep being my partner.”

“Partner?” she snapped, forgetting to hold her foot up in pain. “Tiny gods with tiny balls, you’re awful. You don’t want a partner. You want a slave.”

“This is supposed to be mutually beneficial,” the tinker shot back. “But you insist on acting like a mortal child.”

Enet sat down with her back against a tree. Just to piss off the tinker, she made her glamour swish its tail and munch contentedly on a patch of grass. “I’m not going any further until you treat me with some respect.”

“If you make me miss my boat….” He turned his back and walked into the forest.

Lala whuffled at her. “Shut up,” Enet snapped.

The tinker said nothing when he returned an hour later. He didn’t look at her, but took down her packs and set a three-legged stool on the dirt road. They sat in silence as the sun climbed overhead.

Hoofbeats made them all look up. A traveller on a black horse was coming up the road. The traveller’s hair was windblown, his face red from the wind of his ride. The horse looked like he thought way too highly of himself.

They slowed as they approached. The tinker came to his feet. “Hello there!” said the tinker, infuriatingly happy. “You’ve got the look of a lad that’s wanting something.”

The traveller laughed. Enet was no judge of mortals, but he looked young and stupid. “I’m wanting a lot of things, tinker, but I don’t think you’ve got any of them in your packs.” Okay, he was young, stupid, and as full of himself as his silly black horse.

“Well now, don’t go assuming…” the tinker said. “Listen, I’ll be honest with you, son. My little donkey—” Enet flattened her ears “—has got herself a stone bruise in her forehoof and can’t carry her load. I’m stuck here until I come by some manner of help.”

Enet tuned their prattle out. Negotiations and wheedling bored her. She swished her tail and scratched her nose on the offending forehoof.

But something caught her attention. This fellow, though he looked as ragged as a wet autumn leaf, _revered_ the tinker. He spoke to him with respect, considered everything he said, and even helped him pack up the oversized ass once they’d done their trade. For some reason, this mortal treated the tinker like a tiny god.

When the deal was done and the four of them were on their way, Enet watched the tinker’s back. She plodded along thoughtfully, keeping Lala between her and the newcomer. Finally, she butted the tinker with her nose.

“Why did he treat you that way?”

“Huh?” the tinker asked. He looked tired.

“He didn’t know you from a stupid smalltown farmer, but he respected you like his mother. Why?”

The tinker smiled. “That’s how mortals treat tinkers. They know better than to mistreat us.”

She considered for a long time, swishing her useless mule tail. “Why?”

“Reputation,” he said, as if he’d been waiting for the question. “We tinkers have built ours since the beginning.”

“What else do they give you?” Enet asked.

The tinker gave a sly smile. “Power. The kind of power I don’t have to work for.”

“I would put that on my bread.”

“You’ll have to carry your load.”

“You’ll have to stop slavedriving,” Enet countered.

“Once your skills are better, it won’t be so hard for you.”

“And you’ll have to stop talking to me like a child.”

He bowed his head. “My apologies.”

This surprised her most of all. “Yeah, me too.”

The tinker patted her mule-neck. “I liked your trick with the plow horse.”

Enet snorted, her whole muzzle tingling from the sensation. “I like how you made that licker pack his own horse.”

The tinker grinned, and Enet figured this year would at least be better than spending time at home with her mother.

**Author's Note:**

> Conversation between Kvothe and the tinker taken from _The Name of the Wind,_ Chapter 71: Strange Attraction.


End file.
